


Day and Night

by Ailette



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Imported, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-27
Updated: 2010-08-27
Packaged: 2018-06-05 11:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6703543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailette/pseuds/Ailette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toma gets to room with Nino during Arashi's first tour. It doesn't quite go as Toma expected it to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day and Night

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: eufry *hugs*   
> A/N: This. I'm so glad I finally get to post this! xD The internet itself didn't want this thing to see the light of day. Don't ask. It's just something short that I wrote after watching Suppin' Arashi. You might remember me mentioning something about it...? No. You don't. That was in June. D: *fails* Anyway, this fic is taking place during that tour.   
> (Originally posted at http://ailette.livejournal.com/58293.html)

Toma was ready to forget every and any friendly sentiments he might have ever held for his former band mates. Strike that, he was ready to sever ties with all of Arashi at this moment. Friends didn’t put another friend in a situation like _this_.    


Toma carefully glanced down, only moving his head very slightly but it was once again enough to make the smaller body press even closer to him, arms tightening even more around his middle. It seemed that even breathing was judged as too much movement from his own personal barnacle. Toma had thought Nino’s issues with personal space were bad during the day. He’d had no idea how bad it was to _share a bed with him_.   


He hadn’t suspected anything earlier, when Jun had ever so innocently suggested that Toma room with Nino that night. Apparently Jun wanted to go over some of the choreography for _Midnight Train_ with Sho and therefore thought it more practical to share a room with him. Toma had been thrilled at the prospect of getting out of the small and far too crowded room he shared with the other Juniors. Not having ten other people with you and, instead, a _bed_ for himself and only Nino for company – it had sounded paradisiacal. In theory.   


When he did enter the room later on, all ready in his PJs and with his backpack slung over his shoulder (finally escaping the nagging reminders about getting up on time and dragging Nino out with him from Arashi’s manager in the hallway), Nino had been slouching over the small desk in the corner, head propped up on one hand and sound asleep. Toma had frowned. He himself was still running on the remains of energy from the adrenaline high from the concert, even though it had ended several hours ago already. Waking the older boy turned out to be rather difficult, especially when Nino was apparently convinced that Toma was part of his dream for the first few minutes. After he pinched Toma’s cheek to convince himself that he was awake (Toma wasn’t sure why _he_ ’d been the one to suffer- didn’t one usually pinch themselves to be sure that they’re awake?) he trotted over to the bathroom, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath the whole time until the door fell shut.   


Toma had simply sighed and got into his futon (as it turned out, even Arashi’s rooms didn’t have beds – only two futons laid out with some distance between them in the middle of the room) and tried to calm himself down some more by reading his manga, absent-mindedly rubbing one of his reddened cheeks. He was almost halfway through the volume and began to have problems with keeping his eyes open to focus on the speech bubbles, when Nino tumbled out of the bathroom again.    


Usually alert eyes bleary and with only jogging pants clinging to his thin frame (apparently the t-shirt he usually slept in had been decreed too much of a hassle to put on), he looked about ready to just keel over. It honestly _did_ look like he’d just fallen asleep while still standing with the way he collapsed into his own futon a second later.   


Toma waited for any kind of signal, maybe a ‘Goodnight!’, but was left waiting for nothing.    


“I’ll, uh, turn out the light?” he offered superfluously.   


Again there was no visible answer except for a very deep exhale of breath, so Toma gave in to the inevitable and tried to follow Nino into the land of dreams after switching off the small lamp behind him. He could finally feel sleep just out of his grasp when suddenly, two arms wound themselves around his waist. He yelped (in a much more high pitched voice than he cared to admit) and immediately tried to wiggle away, but to no avail. Nino’s grip was vice-like; every centimetre Toma managed to the left, Nino immediately followed. And he wasn’t even awake, as far as Toma could tell from the nervous glances in almost complete darkness.   


Well, he thought with a mental sigh of resignation after a few more fruitless escape attempts, the situation wasn’t _too_ bad. Nino was warm against his back, but not _too_ warm, and he still smelled like Aiba’s strawberry shampoo he must have ‘borrowed’ and used in his shower directly following the end of the concert. All in all Toma was pretty damn comfortable, actually.   


That had been ten minutes ago. In those ten minutes, the sleeping boy pressed against his side had managed to cuddle even closer. He had buried his nose in Toma’s neck (blowing out his breath at the exact spot where Toma was ticklish and causing him to twitch every few seconds), his arms had sunk lower with the result that small hands were now dangerously close to Toma’s private parts instead of innocently clinging to his waist and worst of all, for almost two minutes (he knew because he’d counted the seconds with clenched teeth) Nino had been _humping his leg_. Thankfully, that had stopped again, but now Nino was making weird noises close to his ear.   


Toma could feel his cheeks heat up again when the wet smacking sound came again. Were those kissing noises? It should be physical impossible to blush and blanch at the same time, but Toma was pretty sure that he was getting close to perfecting the art.    


He had admittedly been wondering why Nino seemed to room with someone else every night. He had also been wondering why Sho kept looking more and more tired at breakfast these days (ever since he’d started to share a room with Nino, he belatedly realized when he thought about it a bit more). And now he wondered what he’d ever done to MatsuJun to deserve this. There was no way he could ever catch any sleep like this!    


The sleeping Nino chose that exact moment to let his hands wander those last few centimetres further down and _tighten their grip_.    


He was going to kill MatsuJun for doing this to him.   


***   


By the time the alarm clock went off, Toma had only been able to catch roughly two and a half hours of sleep. He could practically feel his first grey hairs growing all over his head from the stress of this night.   


Nino, on the other hand, hadn’t woken up once. He kept moving, but never once let the younger boy get out of his reach. Only now was he softly beginning to stir on top of Toma; the unruly mop of brown hair shifting left and right, brushing softly along Toma’s chin.    


Toma couldn’t figure out why none of the Arashi members hadn’t simply told Nino about his strange nightly behaviour and condemned him to a futon in the very corner of the room – or even in the closet. But he was going to change that. One night like this would last him a lifetime and he wasn’t sure if he could _survive_ another one like it.    


“Nino,” he said sternly and probably louder than necessary, because Nino winced and groaned and tried to roll into a ball on his chest. Of course there was nowhere near enough space for such actions and the older boy accidentally rolled off of him, hitting the futon with a muffled thud.   


Taking a proper deep breath for what was very likely the first time in _hours_ , Toma tried again. “Nino.”   


There was something between a moan and a grunt coming from the heap of blanket next to him. Toma set up on his elbow and mercilessly poked at it. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”   


“Toma,” Nino whined in the most pitiable tone of voice Toma had ever heard. All he could see of him were his bleary eyes and a scrunched up nose barely peeking out of his impromptu cocoon.    


“Look, I already let you sleep through the night. Even though you were doing – _things_ – the whole time and I couldn’t close my eyes for more than a few minutes!”   


Nino blinked at him owlishly, like he was still deciding whether or not he actually spoke the language Toma was using. Or maybe he was thinking that Toma was part of his dream again (the younger boy very maturely did not back away to protect his abused cheeks). Around a stretched out yawn, Nino managed a mumbled, “What time is it?”   


“It’s a  quarter past nine ! That’s almost two hours more than you should have slept. Your manager requested you to get up earlier, but, well, he wouldn’t be able come in since I have the only other key to this room. So it’s not like he could have dragged you out or yelled at me for it. Not yet anyway. He might do that later on. And - you only have rehearsals in the afternoon and you don’t really eat breakfast anyway and I thought you looked so tired yesterday-”   


The need for oxygen was finally catching up with Toma and he had to stop his rambling in favour of resuming his breathing. Nino was staring at him now and he couldn’t for the life of him interpret that expression. The only thing he noticed was that Nino’s eyes seemed unnaturally bright, when suddenly, Nino launched himself at him at a far faster speed than Toma would have thought possible.   


“Thank you,” Nino said, sounding almost choked up as he hugged Toma fiercely. He drew back to give him a broad smile, teeth showing for a second before he darted forward again to press a quick peck to Toma’s lips. “Thank you.”   


The next second, he had jumped up and vanished into the bathroom, leaving behind a completely dumbfounded Toma sprawled out on the floor. Toma felt by now the familiar sensation of heat and cold across his face at the same time as his fingers slowly reached up to his lips; disbelief still written clearly across his face.   


He was beginning to suspect a reason as to why no one had told off Nino for his bad nightly behaviour before. And he thought that maybe, _just maybe_ , he might just be able to survive another night in the same room (and futon) as Nino.


End file.
